I told Coach to give me the ball on a possession early in the third quarter and carried several times as we moved the ball down the field. At the one, I was so exhausted that they took me out and Percy Harvin, who actually turned out to have a hairline fracture and not just a sprain from that FSU game, scored on a direct snap and we led, 14–7.
After Oklahoma tied it, we took the lead with a short field goal, 17–14.
Oklahoma drove down the field looking to take the lead, but Ahmad Black picked off Sam Bradford at our twenty-four yard line. It was the fourth quarter; we needed to put the game away.
We mounted a drive with three critical plays, each with a different guy who had made huge plays for us all year.
On third and twelve, they came out in a perfect defense. I scrambled to my left and Riley Cooper kept moving after he ran his pattern, cutting right, and broke away as I released it across my body. He made the catch between the safeties for a twenty-yard gain. First down.
David Nelson made what may have been the biggest catch of the game on a second down and eleven, down the middle on a post between the safeties who were in a Cover Two (zone defense, with each safety responsible for his half of the field).
On third and six from their ten yard line, I hit Aaron Hernandez on a shovel pass to set up a first and goal.
Finally, I hit David Nelson again, on a jump pass from the four yard line, for the touchdown that put it away, 24–14.
Moments later, we had the ball back. As we were running out the clock, I thought an Oklahoma player gave me an extra shot in the pile, so I scrambled up and directed a Gator Chomp toward him with my arms. The referee appropriately flagged that—not my finest moment—and the only personal foul of my career—but it was worth it.
Game over.
After the final touchdown I walked over to Coach Meyer. He pulled off his headset, opened up his arms, gave me a great big hug, and said, “Atta boy. Great job. You finished. I love you.” It was a great feeling to hear him say that, after filling all the roles he had in my life as a coach, a friend, and a father figure.
As great
as that was,
how much greater will it feel when we get to heaven and Jesus takes off his headset, opens up His arms, gives us a big hug, and says, “Atta boy. Great job. You finished. I love you.” I talk to kids about that all the time—finishing strong. It’s great for football. You have to finish in football; you have to learn how to finish in the weight room, through the line, finishing a sprint; everything gets hard. Finish. Eventually some people are going to stop, some people are going to quit, and some people are going to start going slower, but the people who can finish and finish at the same pace or stronger than when they started, those are the ones who are going to succeed; those are the ones who are going to be great. Those are the ones who are going to have an impact in this world and on the lives of others around them. How much more so in life to finish strong. For yourself. For the world. For others. For the God who created you.
In addition to living by this motto myself, I talk to prison inmates about it. I started visiting prisons my freshman year and have been to quite a few, even visiting death row. I really enjoy speaking with those guys—they are so hungry for people to interact with them and share anything at all that is encouraging. I tell them that they might have had a bad first, second, or third quarter, but they can still have a great fourth quarter. They can finish strong in life—wherever they are—and it starts by having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. When a person comes to know Christ, he not only has a home in heaven and is born into God’s family as His child, but he can also have hope—hope to salvage his remaining time on earth by finishing strong with purpose. And when they find that relationship, they not only assure themselves a place throughout eternity with their heavenly Father, but they also find that He still has a plan for them to finish life strong right here. Even though they’re in prison, even on death row, they can still finish this life stronger and still make a difference for themselves in eternity.
When I leave this world, I want to leave something behind that keeps on making a difference in people’s lives. When you finish strong in life and get to heaven, God’s going to say, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:21,
NIV
).
I see it more in terms of rewards in heaven than just leaving a legacy on earth, because if one is not careful, focusing on a legacy could easily become material or “thing” focused. But a legacy that left eternal fingerprints on the lives of others would be a legacy to be remembered in this world and the next. The legacy God intended each of us to leave has to do with the impact our lives have had on the lives of others whom He calls us to serve. It has to do with the difference our lives make in the world—in our families, with friends, at work, at school, with our coaches and teammates, and all those others around us. Our legacy should be about building in the lives of all those others, doing something for others that will not only last in their lives here, but for eternity. That’s why building a school or a play room in a hospital is going to leave a legacy of lasting and eternal consequence, not just a name on a plaque or a stadium.
What I can leave behind: a life that is marked by always trying to do things the right way, building a foundation in others, something that lives beyond me, helps people, and, more important, causes them, in turn, to want to help other people. Finish strong and you help not just yourself; you help others.
• • •
That night
we had a celebration party back at the hotel for family and friends. I was so exhausted that I ended up getting sick on the bus coming back from the game as well as at the party.
The next morning, after some rest, we were on the bus to head to the airport and fly back to Gainesville. Even though I was scheduled for surgery—I had been dinged on the third play of the year against Hawaii—I was excited to get back and celebrate with my friends at school. Coach Mullen and I sat together on the bus, reminiscing about all we had been through together and as a team. He was headed off to Mississippi State and would be missed as a coach and a friend.
It was a fun trip home.
And so we were the national champions. All that we had worked for in 2008 came to fruition in that moment, and we enjoyed it for a few days. In all honesty, I wasn’t particularly troubled by the BCS system at the time; after all, it worked to our benefit by putting us in the National Championship game. I can, however, certainly see the unfairness in it at times.
As someone who has always pushed for people to evaluate me on my merits and not any preconceived notions, I couldn’t help but feel for the kids at Coach Meyer’s old school, Utah. What else could they have possibly done? They were 13–0 with a decisive win over Alabama in the Sugar Bowl to close out their season.
Imagine for a moment if the NCAA implemented one of the many calls for including major college football in a playoff system or compensating players. How hard could those be to implement?
Just another thought.
Godliness actually is a means of great gain when accompanied by contentment.
—1 T
IMOTHY 6:6
I’m told that ninety-four million
people searched for John 3:16 on Google during and immediately following the National Championship Game. I knew that the verse would be seen by a ton of people, but that was beyond anything I would have imagined.
I thought and prayed about my upcoming decision a lot.
I thought I’d have a chance to finish strong in college. Since I’d always preached about finishing strong, I wanted to act on what I’d said. But then again, there were some who thought that maybe I should go pro after my junior year—once a college player has been in college for three years, he can choose to make himself eligible for the NFL draft. By leaving early, I wouldn’t risk a debilitating injury in my senior year, but I would risk the chance to be a part of one of the greatest college teams of all time and one of the greatest football recruiting classes of all time, especially if we could win a third National Championship to go with the ones in 2006 and 2008.
Between my dilemma of staying or going and Coach Mullen’s leaving Florida for Mississippi State, our celebration after the National Championship was short lived. There were a lot of question marks hanging in the air. I really didn’t want to leave Coach Meyer. He and I had become more like brothers than simply coach and player. I would text his children on a regular basis, and he and I had lunch together in his office almost every day during the season, just talking. That relationship was a major factor in my decision.
Although I had thought about it and prayed about it a great deal, Coach Meyer and I hadn’t spoken a word about it. We returned from the National Championship game the following day, Friday, and met at a restaurant on Newberry Road in Gainesville, Ballyhoo Grill, on Saturday, just down the street from the university.
It was Coach, my parents, and me. We talked and went through all the pros and cons of the decision. Coach made it clear that he wanted me to stay for selfish reasons, that he liked coaching me and hanging out in his office with me. He also thought that with one more season, my career might go down as one of the best in college history. I wasn’t sure about that, but I agreed that I loved my time with Coach and at Florida. Still, Coach Meyer tried to be objective and helpful, even offering to call people he knew in the NFL and try to get an informal gauge on my draft status.
At one point, my dad and Coach Meyer left the table, and my mom reminded me what we’d just heard about the incredible number of Google searches of John 3:16 that week just because I’d worn the verse on my eye black.
“Timmy, I doubt that people follow professional quarterbacks in the same way. Or if they do, there’s no guarantee that they’d ever follow you in the pros the way people follow you here.”
I nodded.
“Ninety-four million people on Google for John 3:16? Think of the influence you can keep having on kids and others if you stay another year,” she said.
Although there are plenty of popular professionals, what she said made sense to me—we were leaning that way anyway. We knew that the platform God had given me as the Florida quarterback was a big one; who knew what it might be next? Bigger? Smaller? I knew God would give me a platform wherever I was—he does that for all of us—but I wanted to make sure I didn’t give up the one He had already given, if I could continue to use it for His glory for another year.
There was more, though. For me, it all came back to finishing strong, to practicing what I’d been preaching. The thought that I’d be with Coach Meyer and that I could finish my college career strong, and that we’d make something extremely special out of it—win or lose—was very appealing, and I would graduate this upcoming December. There would be plenty of time to go and pursue my dream of playing quarterback in the NFL, if that’s what God had in mind. If not, He’d close that door, anyway.
I was also trying to figure out when I would have shoulder surgery, which I needed. Between workouts and the Combine, that might be challenging to schedule.
For now, I felt that I wanted to finish college strong, to do the best I could, and to be there for my teammates and Coach Meyer. To have a great senior year.
I didn’t tell Coach Meyer that yet, though, but asked if I could speak to my family for a bit. He left to drive back to his office, but he did notice that I didn’t take him up on his offer to call NFL coaches and scouts. Thirty minutes later, I called to ask him to meet me downstairs in the stadium. I figured that he knew, since he wasn’t seated in the stadium on the forty-fifth row, but I told him anyway that I was staying.
He and I celebrated and decided that I would announce it publicly the following day, at the National Championship celebration that the university was holding for us and the Gator Nation at Florida Field.
And Monday I had my shoulder surgery.
Once I’d decided
to stay, I turned my attention to the season. After our experience with the 2007 season, we knew that we needed to fight complacency and continue to press on the accelerator to stay where we were while everyone else was chasing us.
While I’d made my decision to stay, not everyone was able to do the same. We lost several good players to graduation and the NFL draft including Percy Harvin and Louis Murphy. Brandon Spikes, however, chose to stay for his senior year, which made me happy.
The remaining players came in and tried to focus to prepare to repeat as national champs, but there were many distractions for a lot of the guys. For the most part, everybody was focused a lot like we were before the 2008 season, but it was always a problem finding just that right edge. You can tend to get complacent with the day in, day out stuff, because, frankly, you know you’re a good team and have a lot of good players. I mean, you’re the national champions, so you must be fairly talented to begin with, but you have to be on guard all the time so that complacency doesn’t begin to set in.
We were digging to find the edge that would keep us on top. That whole off-season all Alabama talked about was how we beat them up in the fourth quarter to win the SEC Championship Game. We knew they were working hard in Tuscaloosa, so we needed to exceed—or at least match—their level.
Somewhere he is out there, training while I am not. One day, when we meet, he will win.
To keep that from happening, we’d either have to fake that motivation or muster it up somehow. Not all people are self-motivated to be the best they can be. If we had lost the big game to end the season—that’s something completely different. We could feed off that to motivate us as we began the next season, much as Alabama was using their SEC Championship Game loss and their bowl loss to fuel their off-season work.
We, however, needed another impetus to motivate us. Coach Mick and Coach Meyer worked to give us that through the off-season with a variety of guest speakers, like Tony Dungy, Billy Donovan, and Doc Rivers. The rest of the coaches also worked to motivate us. Because Coach Mullen was at Mississippi State, Coach Meyer moved Steve Addazio into the role of offensive coordinator and hired Scott Loeffler as the quarterback coach. I was pleased, as I really liked Coach Addazio and I had gotten to know Scott when he recruited me to Michigan.
As leaders, we did a pretty good job of staying focused and helping the rest of the team as well to stay focused, knowing what our jobs were. A lot of us talked about it. Brandon Spikes, Brandon James, Riley Cooper, David Nelson, and I talked about how this was something we wanted to accomplish. We didn’t shy away from talking about it. Sometimes we’d break the huddle after a workout and shout it: “Best Ever!”
The coaches wouldn’t say it, but our goal as the class of 2009 was to become the best team college football had ever seen. That kept us motivated.
Meanwhile, I continued to try and use my success for other purposes. Jamie McCloskey helped me get permission from the NCAA to put on the First and 15 event once again, but this time we made it a weeklong event. We still held the Powder Puff game with the sororities, but we added a number of other events to make it a full week. We added an auction that Coach Meyer and others helped with, and we held something we called a Brighter Day Event. Bill Heavener, my parents’ friend and the founder of Full Sail University, brought a couple of RVs up to Gainesville to transport twelve underprivileged kids with us to Disney World for the day with at least one adult per child going along. One of my favorite events of the week was an ice-cream social in the pediatric wing at Shands Hospital, with balloons and ice cream in the kids’ party room. For as much as I try to eat well, I’ve always had a soft spot for ice cream. Couple that with kids, and that’s an event I can look forward to, every year, or even more often.
At the auction, we auctioned off my FSU “Braveheart” jersey, splattered in garnet paint—it sold for $250,000. All in all, we raised over $500,000, a nice increase from $13,000 the year before. Part of the money went to add a new children’s room at Shands, called Timmy’s Playroom, where other players and coaches continue to visit to this day. In fact, we raised the most in one week that any student organization in the country had ever raised.
To me, this event was just as important as school. Classes had become routine and easy by this time. I graduated with a 3.66 GPA, and while I enjoyed Florida, I was also starting to think ahead to my future. I knew that somehow I would be involved in the community once my playing days were over. While that hopefully would not be for quite a while, it made sense to use my status as leverage to broaden that reach. Someday I figured I would be in full-time ministry work in some way, whether with my family or elsewhere. Why not get a jump now? Too many people wait for something to happen or for conditions to be just right, but God has given each of us a platform right where we are, and I was trying to use that as best I could.
Every year in August,
before the season begins, college athletic conferences conduct Media Days during which the press has a chance to ask questions of representatives of each school: the head coach and a player or two. I was with Coach Meyer in Birmingham for the Southeastern Conference Media Days. It’s a chance for the press to ask each coach what he expects of the upcoming season—about players, other teams, and so forth. A chance for football junkies to get their fill of football. While there, a reporter, Clay Travis, thought it would be newsworthy to go in a totally different direction than the other questioners.
“You’ve worn your religion on your sleeve . . . and I think that’s made you very popular in the South and all over the country, that even if you’re beating . . . their teams, they still like you personally. Are you saving yourself for marriage?”
I didn’t dodge the question and answered truthfully, “I am.” But I didn’t understand—and still don’t—why it was something that needed to be asked. Since when does anybody else get asked that? Travis later said he knew what my answer would be and thought it would be positive for kids and others to hear it publicly.
The funniest part about it is that the next reporter was too flustered to get his question out. We all had a good laugh.
To his point, athletes seem to be in the news far too much for the negative ways in which they relate to women, all too often with a lack of respect, and horrifyingly, at times, with violence. That distresses me. God wants us to foster healthy relationships in all areas of our lives, and those relationships should never be marked by conquest or putting ourselves or our “needs” ahead of others’. We are called to serve. I may not have thought the question to be appropriate, but thinking about it afterward, I realized that young women and men heard my answer and would continue to hear it going forward. As a result, there was the chance that they might find encouragement in my words and lifestyle to do the same and to wait until they were married to engage in sexual activity.
My attitude toward women has actually always been a decent way for me to talk about my faith. I’m constantly asked in locker rooms why I don’t have girls around me all the time. Apparently, some guys think that women find quarterbacks appealing.
Whenever this has come up, I’ve always responded that our relationships are what matter to God, and that if God wants us to treat strangers well, shouldn’t we treat people we know and care for even that much better? I mean, I want to be a certain way when I get married, so shouldn’t I treat those that I’m around and interested in that same way?
Another factor is that I have trouble finding girls who really like me for me. Ever since my recruiting experiences, I’ve kept my guard up because I realized that girls would often tell me whatever it was they thought I wanted to hear. I recognize that we all put our best foot forward when we’re meeting new people, but it just seems that I’ve run into this a great deal, for whatever reason.
Sometimes in college it felt like some girls merely wanted to be seen with me. Meanwhile, I have the opposite dilemma. Because I’m so recognizable, and because I’ve been trying to stand for something, I try to be careful about who I’m with. I’d prefer to just get to know girls first, anyway. One of these days, maybe, I’ll meet the right girl.
Some guys also seem to think that it’s impossible to resist temptation. I’ve found—as in other areas—that if I’ve already thought through a situation and have a response prepared ahead of time in the event temptation rears its ugly head, it is that much easier to resist. Of course, staying away from situations and questionable areas whenever possible, where I know there may be temptations, is an even better solution.
The question seemed to have a ripple effect, where suddenly my decision to save myself was national news. In a way, I wouldn’t have chosen to have him ask that question; sometimes I’d just rather live a private life. Plus, I never want to come across as preachy or thinking I have all the answers, or that I don’t make mistakes. I make plenty—I’m far from perfect. At the same time, I didn’t shy away from answering, because it’s part of my platform, and it got a lot of people talking about it. Even reporters who were sometimes critical of me wrote that in a time when so many athletes were having children out of wedlock, they appreciated my stance. Seeing my words have that kind of impact made me realize that God had a plan for this, too—of course.